This past weekend saw what was dubbed as the “pre-season” Lobster Cup, throwdown in Bonny Doon, near Santa Crazy. Pre-season. Post-season. Season-season. Whatevs. In our droughted and sunny temperate zone, we don’t really have to wait for cross, though it is fun to build up the excitement and create some defined space around the season, lest it become like that other bike season that begins in January and runs all the way until October. Ouch.
However, I did hear tell of one CX-ey lady who has been training since January for the 2015-16 cross season. Double ouch! I can’t wait to see how she shreds! Speaking of shredding, I always love yet loathe the beginning of the season races wherein we all line up, some for the first time, some for the second time, and hover over the fronts of our bikes like hunting dogs on point, steely-eyed and stiff, waiting for the official to send us off.
At Bonny Doon, we were let loose by the honk of a honka-hoota style horn, fitting for a pre-season, fundraging [sic], cross race. The fundraising was for the Rock Lobster elite ladies bid for national racing and hopefully the bigtime champs race in Asheville which is a goal I am more than happy to help people achieve. But that’s my nature, I cry when I watch marathoners finish a race or watch “Rudy” the movie.
The Olympics? Forget about it. I am reduced to emotional hope music induced feels. It’s embarrassing. Yet awesome?
Strangely enough, I won my first race ever in San Luis Obispo last year, and standing on the top step, it felt somehow anticlimactic. I felt prouder placing 7th (of 12) in yesterday’s “A race” at the Lobsta Bake than I did taking the number 1 (of 8??) at the SLO Cross.
Which is odd.
But still, I’m stoked on 7th.
The course was pretty flat and fast with lots of turns and a seriously surly sand pit. I tried out my boy’s single-speed mountain bike for the first time, dipping my toe in the SSCX waters for the second time (the first being about the grandest singlespeed race I will ever race in my life) in my racing career.
Hilariously or sadly, also on the same boyfriend’s singlespeed “cross” bike, still with flat bars. Even hilarious-er, Murphy Mack, event organizer of this epic race, STILL does not provide a women single speed race in his SuperBro CX series NOR does he allow ladies to race in the “mens single speed” category at his races. An unforgivable crime for which he is being boycotted by some very reasonable women. Maybe one day he’ll let women race on one gear in a league of their own.
But I’m not here to bitch about getting the short shrift at cyclocross races, else you might never reach the end of this post! Nooooo, that would be, bad? Yes. Totally not the goal. I mean you have to get to that stupid Kaiser Permanente ad that WordPress sticks at the bottom of every post, at some point, right! Ah, the cost of free, in this case, is obnoxious advertising. Blech.
So in short, the race was fun–even though, friends aren’t supposed to let friends race cross in August, the weather was misty to HAWT, and the babes were ‘licious. Takin a page outta the ole Handbook of Bell with some bonafide booty dollar hand-ups. Way to go kids, carry that torch, bright and flaming, into the raucous night.
Thanks for the memories, Paul!
Very Truly Yours,